I Used To Waste My Time Dreaming Of Being Alive
by LittleVolodya
Summary: Ivan reflects on his life. Warnings inside.


**TW: Suicide. Self-harm.**

Notes: Not chronological. Some parts are intentionally vague. Sorry, about that.

Not a RusAme fic.

* * *

 **One**

Ivan remembers fourth grade swimming lessons.

Awkwardly changing into swimming trunks in the bathroom stall to avoid the embarrassment of taking his clothes off in front of his classmates. He has to psych himself up to leave the stall once he's finished. He's envious that everyone else seems comfortable in their own skin.

The pool area smells strongly of chlorine and all the sounds echo off the tiled walls. He almost slips on a patch of wet floor, catching himself just in time. He watches as his friend Alfred gets excitedly into the pool, taking to the water like a duck. He's ashamed that he doesn't once leave the side of the pool or move into the deep end during the lesson.

After the lesson and after the equally awkward ritual of changing back into his regular clothes, somehow Alfred ends up with ink in his mouth. Maybe he was playing with a pen, though Ivan can't be sure, it was years ago.

Ivan watches the class leave, single file, making their way back to the bus that will bring them back to their school. He turns back to Alfred and leads him to a water fountain to see if that helps with getting the ink out of his mouth.

Years later, Alfred will look back at the incident and say "That's when we became best friends." Ivan will smile and say nothing, but he will think to himself 'I thought we were always best friends'.

* * *

 **Two**

Ivan skips headstart and kindergarten. He stays home with his mom while his older sister goes to school. He's always been a shy child. He knows everything they will teach him that year anyway.

He can't miss first grade though. He tries to get out it, but his mom is adamant that he goes. There will be no getting out of it this time. She says it will help him break out of his shell.

He remembers walking into that classroom. It was small. The light was dim, or maybe that's only how it is in his memories, anxiety filter set permanently on. He was nervous because he didn't know anyone and he had never gone to school before so he was clueless about some things.

The other kids laughed and said he was stupid and so he ended up going to kindergarten after all.

He meets a small, outgoing blonde boy named Alfred and decides that maybe school isn't so bad.

* * *

 **Three**

The Incident happens sometime in the summer after fourth grade and between starting fifth. He was eleven.

He remembers the muggy Midwest heat and how the house had no air conditioning. Sleeping with the window open wasn't an option because there were no screens and the thought of waking up covered in mosquito bites and moths landing on him wasn't a pleasant one.

He settles for sleeping atop the covers.

He startles awake in the middle of the night and has no idea why at first. He later wishes he had remained ignorant, wishes he had not fully awakened, wishes he had never known. Maybe things would have been different. Maybe they would have been better.

Afterwards, Ivan lays in bed staring at the ceiling for what feels like hours in a room that's slowly growing lighter as the sun peaks over the horizon. He eventually wraps himself in his blanket and goes back to sleep.

The next night before he goes to sleep he wraps himself in his blanket again, making sure to tuck it underneath himself. Ivan lies awake in the dark waiting for something to happen. He comes into the room (there are no doors because he had convinced Ivan's mom that they shouldn't let the children lock themselves in their rooms) a few hours later. He stands over Ivan's bed and tugs on the blanket. It doesn't work and Ivan feels relieved when he leaves again.

* * *

 **Four**

He remembers being in his grandfather's house. It was lit with warm yellow light and there were old country songs playing, drawling voices crooning from the crackly radio speakers. The scent of smoke curling from the wood stove permeates his memories, along with the comforting smell of an old house, and the warm rabbit meat his grandfather was feeding him. He was barely above counter height, the top of his head only just clearing it. His grandfather speared the hunks of lightly salted meat with a fork and held them out for Ivan who happily and greedily ate them.

* * *

 **Five**

In seventh grade he has a non-speaking role in the school play - Snow White.

In rehearsals in the choir room his eyes are drawn to the boy who was chosen to play one of the dwarves (was it Happy, Dopey, or Sneezy? Ivan doesn't recall). He's never seen him before but he looks pretty with his almost silver hair and so Ivan keeps looking over at him every little while. He seems so comfortable in this chaotic environment, his voice loud as he laughs and he keeps goofing off. He looks like he's having so much fun and Ivan wishes he could be like that.

Alfred calls Ivan later and says that Gilbert (the boy from the play) told him that he likes Ivan and wants to go out with him.

Ivan doesn't know what to say. He likes Gilbert too, but he suspects without being able to grasp exactly why, that it's different somehow. He doesn't want to hold his hand or kiss him. And anything further than that makes him feel sick to his stomach. He just wants to learn more about him, be close to him. Is that what liking someone is?

He ends up saying yes and it ends two weeks later because he can't articulate yet why even holding hands makes him uncomfortable. He wonders if he is broken.

* * *

 **Six**

During elementary school, the bus drops him and his siblings off at his grandfather's house after school. Their afternoons are filled with episodes of Cyber Chase and Liberty's Kids watched on their grandfather's small television.

* * *

 **Seven**

The first time he tries to commit suicide he is twelve. He fills a cup halfway with tylenol and melatonin pills. He thinks to himself that those are like sleeping pills and what little knowledge he has of suicide - he doesn't label it as that yet - says that people use sleeping pills to do it. He swallows them down dry, counting them as he goes. 1, 2, 3, all the way to 32 before he decides that it's enough.

He doesn't remember falling asleep, but he remembers waking up.

His mom and step-dad are angry with him about the pills.

They yell at him. "What if your sister had found those! She could have gotten sick."

They found the note left next to his bed explaining why he did it and yell at him for that too. "What if your sister had read this? She's too young for this kind of thing. She's just a child!"

Ivan thinks ' _I'm a child too. I'm too young for this.'_

He doesn't say anything.

* * *

 **Eight**

Their step-dad babysits them while their mom is at work.

Ivan, twelve or thirteen, has an affinity for baking and he loves it. It's calming. The only downside is he has to ask permission to use the stove and because his mom's not there he has to ask her husband.

He goes up to his mom's room. The lights are off and the blinds are closed so it's dark. He stays in the doorway and asks if he can bake something.

His step-dad says only if Ivan hugs him. So Ivan does as he's asked and goes to hug him. His step-dad rubs his hands down Ivan's back and Ivan's stomach is in knots. He feels unclean. He tries to pull back, but then his step-dad asks for a kiss and pats his cheek. Ivan tries to get it over with, but then he asks for another one, still rubbing his back, and then a third - "Third times the charm!" - before finally letting him bake.

It isn't worth it. He stops asking.

* * *

 **Nine**

He throws himself into reading. He vanishes into other worlds and finds happiness in them.

* * *

 **Ten**

He wins spelling bees. The crowds make him uncomfortable, but his mom is happy. That's what matters.

* * *

 **Eleven**

The first time he takes a razor to his arm, age 12, he feels relieved to have found pain to focus on that's not in his head.

It's a habit he keeps off and on for over a decade.

His arms, legs, feet, and stomach are littered with a myriad of intercrossing fine white scars and angrier pink-ish scars.

* * *

 **Twelve**

His mom calls him a liar.

His step-dad, when Ivan scathingly calls him a child molester, says there are much worse things he can call Ivan.

And because they have called him a liar so many times, he starts to think that it must be true. What if he is sick? What if he imagined this whole thing? He wants to die.

* * *

 **Thirteen**

He tells Alfred about The Incident one day in health class when he's sixteen. They share a desk in the very back of the room. Ivan tells Alfred he has something very important to tell him, but he can't bring himself to say it aloud. He writes it in a note.

Alfred is the only one, besides his younger sister, who believes him.

* * *

 **Fourteen**

There are two memories involving singing that Ivan keeps for when he wants to feel better about himself.

The first one, the details are hazy. He and Alfred are in the latter's car, driving somewhere and nowhere and Alfred has music playing, their favorite band, and they're both singing along when Alfred stops and says "I wish I had a cd of you singing so I could listen to it whenever I want to."

Alfred probably doesn't remember that and he was probably just being nice because Ivan's voice is really nothing special, but Ivan cherishes it nonetheless.

The second one happened during choir. The teacher is having everyone sing solo for her and the foreign exchange student from France. When it's Ivan's turn he's very nervous because singing alone was never his forte. The teacher begins to play the piano and Ivan starts to sing. When the song is over the teacher says that Ivan was very quiet and the foreign exchange student says that it _was_ quiet, but also haunting.

It could go either way, but Ivan chooses to take it as a compliment so it won't be devastating.

* * *

 **Fifteen**

Ivan drops out of high school during his senior year.

* * *

 **Sixteen**

His life never gets better.

He's 23 and his life is going nowhere.

He has good days. Those consist of cleaning the house, showering, and keeping his anger bottled up.

He has bad days, most days. He sleeps most of the day. He gets angry over the tiniest little things. Showering is too much of a chore.

He has no friends. Save for his younger sister, Natalia. Even she is getting sick of him, he can tell.

Somewhere between the years of being inseparable during childhood and now, he and his older sister Kat have grown apart. They barely talk and when they do it usually devolves into fighting. They can only tolerate each other in small bursts.

He hasn't talked to Alfred in months. When he tries to initiate conversation via text, Alfred just replies "Hey! I miss you too. We have to hang out soon!"

When Ivan tries to make plans Alfred doesn't respond.

It isn't Alfred's fault or Nat's. It's no one's fault but his own. He just wants this to be over.

 _'I'm hollow.'_ He thinks.

* * *

 **Seventeen**

Alfred,

Even though we weren't really friends anymore, I wanted to thank you for being my best friend for all those years. You didn't have to and I was very grateful. You were always there for me and I wish I could have been there more for you.

I never got to congratulate you in person for getting married and having a child. So much changed. Do you remember building forts in my room when we were younger? God, I miss that so much. Remember watching those stupid horror movies together? I miss that. Mostly though, I miss you. I'm sorry for not being a better friend to you. At some point it became easier to not talk to you. There was always the inevitable question: "What are you up to?" And my answer would always be: "Nothing."

I just got so tired of being dead weight. All I do is drag everyone down.

Everyone's lives kept moving forward and I feel like I stopped growing up when I was 11. I wasted my whole life being traumatised by one little event. I can't even remember the last time I was truly happy. My mom was right I guess, I did let it ruin my life. Sorry for rambling. I'm so happy that everything is going great for you! I know you'll be an amazing dad and I hope your life is filled with beautiful and wonderful things! Because you deserve some light in your life. I just wish we could have had one more movie night before things drifted apart. I love you, Alfie.

* * *

Natalia,

I love you. I know I wasn't the nicest person to you, I was actually really mean to you most of the time. I'm so sorry, you never deserved that. I know how anxious you get about everything, I want you to know that I believe in you. You are more talented than you believe and I think you could do whatever you put your mind to. I wish you would believe in yourself.

* * *

Mama,

I want to say sorry for being a burden all these years. I made life hell for you, I'm sure. I'm sorry that I never amounted to anything. I wish I could go back knowing what I know now and I wouldn't have told you anything. I'm sorry for putting that on you. I never wanted to upset you. I just wanted to make you proud of me and I ruined all the chances of that. I don't know why I turned out this way. I just want you to know that I love you. I just can't do this anymore. Please forgive me.

* * *

Notes: Title from Of All The Gin Joints In All The World - Fall Out Boy. This is really short, but it was exhausting writing it. Review, if you'd like.


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